han_solo | (no subject)

(no subject)

The Impala purrs into the farm, barely making a sound. It's easily the best-running of any of the vehicles there - since Sam's Porsche isn't here, anyway.

Dean stays in the drivers' seat for a moment or two before getting out, shoving his hands into his pockets and striding out for the kitchen. That's the only reason he's here.

The only.

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Yeah, thing about him standing?

Mel is, in comparison, really tiny. She could pick Dean up in one hand, but he could probably return it.

"Smart thinking. People don't think I can manage it."

It makes Dean grin. She's tiny! And could still kick his ass. And probably not die or faint if a monster attacked.

... all women should be like this.

"I'm sure they learn quick," he points out, leaning against the table to be a little nearer her height.

Then Mel wouldn't be special. And it'd make her sad.

"Yeah, I'm really not good at pretending to be useless."

Hell, she's no good at admitting when she's useless.

Nah, she'd cope. It'd be awesome.

Dean regards her thoughtfully. "I kinda like that."

"Well, I do it to get you to like me."

Sarcasm is well intentioned, honestly!

"You gotta use a lot of smarts doing your job too, right?"

Dean laughs. "Nah, you can do it just as good being thick as a freakin' brick. I just put up a good front."

OK, that laughter is joined.

"I figure being dumb'd get you killed pretty quickly."

She knows it almost got her killed. It DID get Zuko killed.

"Natural selection," Dean agrees cheerfully. "Miracle I'm still alive, really. I guess Darwin ain't all he's cut out t'be."

Blank look which immediately becomes shifty.

"Now's when I turn out to be just as dumb as I look."

"Or just as from-a-different-world," Dean remarks, unfazed. "Speaking of which, where are you from? Much like here?"

"Jesu, no." Mel says quickly. "I'm a city girl, from up in Noram - East Coast. Via two post-apoc wastelands to get here."

Dean nods as if this is perfectly normal. Hell, for all he knows, it is. "You're doin' damn well running a farm for a city chick. Not that I'd know anythin' about it."

"It's the people," Mel says. "Run the people and the farm gets run as a side effect. No one's figured I'm crap at it, but I learned from Zuko."

His name out, she doesn't show how hard it was to hear her saying it.

"That's the girl's dad?" Dean's pretty clueless, just trying to work out the whos and hows. "Huh. Cool. Guess they'll grow up t'be good at bossing people 'round too, huh?"

OK, now she can grin. Girls always help. "Already doing it, didn't notice?"

"I must've missed it," Dean says, running a hand through his mango-gunked-up hair and grinning. "Somehow."

He offers her a few flakes of dried mango, grinning.

Ew.

Mel cringes, and takes the mango, tossing it in the trash from where she's standing.

"Com'on," she adds, beckoning him closer. "That'll come out."

Dean comes closer, willingly. "You reckon?"

"Yeah."

If she took a moment to think, she'd be embarrassed that she's totally a Mom these days, but she's not. She's smirking half in embarrassment for Hana messing his hair like that, and half because this conversation is the most she's enjoyed herself in weeks.

Running calloused hands through his hair, she picks out lumps and smooths out stuck mats, with the gentleness learned from Hana screaming every time someone pulls her hair.

OK, that might be motherly if Dean was a two-year-old girl, but ... nope, that's just sexy. Dean tries not to purr under her hands, but not very much.

"Mmmm. You learn t'do that professionally or somethin'?"

"Done my share of hair stuff," she admits, though distracted with the job. Her hair, these days, is a violent combination of green and pink. "It's not hard."

Dean is just gonna relax and enjoy it. "Mmmmmmmmf. Nice."

It could be worth pointing out that he couldn't really care less about the state of his hair, except because she does.

"You c'n do that all night long."

Completely clueless in the world of seduction as Mel is, she only just realises that this is a sexy thing.

Ooops.

Still, she grins, lacing all eight fingers into his hair now and combing it out slowly.

"You're easily satisfied," she remarks.

"Hell, yes," Dean agrees comfortably, wriggling his shoulders happily. "Or maybe you're just extra-satisfying."

Grin becomes a smirk, only very slightly mocking him.

"Smooth."

Her hands stay against his head. Not pulling him down, but he's definitely drawn closer to her face, and she no longer needs to look at his hair.